Here is where I blog about writing my novels and short stories - the influences, research and imagination behind them. Some facts, questions and ethical dilemmas.

Jack's Tale

Away
from the City and imprisoned behind rings of mines, deprived of resources,
settlements battle famine, natural disasters and despair. The companions of
Ellen’s Tale and The Storyteller’s Tale have moved south to settle in Belacot
and to open new trade routes. This land to the west and north of the City has
been untouched by any form of law and order for over 50 years and soon our
companions face new conflict and danger. As they begin to liberate mined
settlements they discover some of the survivors of the Great Wars live by
violence banding together to exist by means of terror and murder.Undermanned and lacking the resources of the
City Bix’s Comrade is almost overwhelmed. Disasters threaten the close knit
comrades and relationships begin to founder under the stresses of war.

~
Chapter One ~

I
heard he had run out of luck.Well that
happens, even to the best but somehow I never, none of us I think, thought it
would happen to him; we thought him invincible.The malevolent devils this side of hell wanted a laugh I guess, life
boring by the pits.Shouldn't have
happened, of course, he was retired out of the fighting, if you’re thinking of
the mine clearing no one dies of those injuries anymore, we are all too
careful.This could have happened
because he had been away from the battlefields too long, even the kind of luck
he had a comrade needs well-honed reflexes and trained muscles.Probably he’d lost his edge.Damned shame though, he was a good Feral and
we'll need everyone for this round of fighting.Can't afford to lose the best like that.How are his comrades dealing with it?Stupid question, forget I asked.

I'm not sure how I can help really but if you can
get up here in the next week I'll be happy to try, in any way.Have to get back to the City after that.I’ll be your end of the trail later, next
month, but you may not wish to conduct the interview around his comrades so
soon after the event.

How is she managing the loss?Erin says she must be the worst affected but
then Erin is all woman so maybe that is her
world view as they say.Me, I think it
will be comrades; they’ve been by his side for many years through so much
together.We don't show hurt, that's not
a Feral way; could be it's not a soldier's way but the hurt goes down deep into
the guts of us.

I'm sorry if this letter is not so well written I
don't often have need of writing, apart from reports of course.There are a great deal of those these days as
you can imagine with all the troop mobilisations and re-arming, organising
rations and equipment.The City
authorities are tail-spinning in overreactions; just as well we have the
ordering of things out here.How are the
settlers there at Belacot taking the news?They must feel very much in the thick of the chaos with the camping
right there by their land.

Erin sends her best wishes and says if there is
anything she can do to help at this time not to bother with niceties just shout
and she'll come.Reckons she doesn't
need an escort, will travel down the forest walk.I think she'd be safe enough, so I agree with
her; just send word if you need help.

Gair

Karina
Morgan’s Journal

I
had picked this one piece of paper at random from the box that Clemens had
indicated – read it and showed it to him.

‘Who ran out of luck?There’s nothing to show.Do you know who this Gair person is talking
about?’I was already regretting I had
ever put forward this stupid idea.The
overflowing box of papers on the tidy desk seemed to overwhelm, drain the life
force from me.

‘Gair?He is
or was a Feral Commander of some note.He is mentioned often in the Feral accounts of this time.Respected and honoured many times.As to whom he is talking about, well that is
something maybe you can discover as you go through these papers.’

‘How?’

‘Other references in other papers, it is like a
puzzle which you have to put together.’He stared at me and frowned.‘Would it better maybe if this task was given to someone else to
undertake?’

Oh the temptation was there, who was I trying to
fool?I was no Archivist but it seemed
the only way to find out what had happened to Maia.To maybe unearthing what it was that had led
her to stray away from the safe paths and vanish.I shook my head at my new boss.Picked up the box, with some difficulty, bade
him a civil enough goodbye and slowly made my way back to my room.

Staring later at the still unpacked box I felt
despondent and very tired.

I'm
not sure I've made the right decision saying I wanted to finish Maia's
work.For a start I can't stand that
Clemens they've put in charge of me, he's taken over Ris' position; so smugly
self-satisfied and pompous. Urgh, he and I will clash I'm sure. It's obvious he
doesn't approve of the powers-that-be allowing me to sully his precious
Archives.I wanted to throw the papers
at him he irritated me so much.

When I was summoned to his office this morning to
be presented with this large box of assorted papers and a couple of notebooks
all I could do was stare at them then at Clemens.What, I asked, were these and what was I
supposed to do with them?He smiled, oh
so politely, informing me these were copies of all the papers that the Archives
possessed that were relevant to Ellen and her companions.Most Maia had researched for her work but
some were newer, sent up from Belacot for safe-keeping.They were for my task.My task!It's obvious he thinks I will fail.I'll show him.Dreadful man.

I had to go back to that man, ask what I had to do
to make any sense of the pile of papers he had handed me.How could I possibly turn these scraps into a
chronicle for all that's good?

He was silent for so long I thought he was ignoring
me.That irritated me and I began to
tell him not to be so rude when he asked if I was serious about undertaking the
work.Did I realise what was
involved?Really!I told him I wouldn't have asked for his help
if I wasn't serious.I hope I implied he
was the last person I would have wished to ask for assistance however, as they
say in the Hallowed Hall, needs must.Not diplomatic I grant but I was in despair not knowing how to even
start.His eyebrows went clear to his
hairline at the tone of my words but he never changed his demeanour.Cold.

He started to explain about sorting, taking notes,
referencing, cross-referencing and collating.My head buzzed with it all.With
a small tsk tsk he began to write notes for me, written in the neatest
handwriting I ever did see.He is a very
neat man I admit.Everything about him
is so stationary, as if painted on him.From his body movements and facial expressions to his clothes.Never moving from rightful place.I also acknowledge his notes make sense and
now I see the path ahead.I'm beginning
to suspect this Archival business is a tedious, boring path.I vowed to the missing Maia I would do this
and I don't renege on my vows.

I'm sitting here wondering how much of my life this
will take; already, after a few days, I am missing my craft.Then I remember Clemens' eyebrows and I
laugh.He has a beautiful head, I wonder
if I could reproduce it.Would it be
possible to portray such a still life form, his character and neatness?My art is usually wilder.Clemens is so contained; I have visions of
the completed work enclosed within a box.The thought pleases me.

~
Chapter Two ~

Ellen
Welfitt’s letters

Dear
Susanna

I hope you received that ridiculous pigeon note Ria
sent; she is an impossible girl sometimes.Anyway, if you did receive the note, you will know she had three
beautiful babies.I am writing to fill
in the details for you; she says details do not matter but she smiled as she
said the words and only shrugged when I told her of this letter saying whatever
I wished.I know our Ria by now; she
does want you to know, she will never admit to it.

Anyway to the point, oh Susanna they are such
beautiful children.Long and lean,
longer than mine were, I suppose that is Jack’s influence.They are dark, not as Ria but more a dusky
tan, and with such a soft cloud of dark hair.Everyone one loves them and, like mine, the comrades steal them all the
time.Ria does not mind, says they will
come back when they are hungry.

Ria’s plans did not go exactly as she had hoped and
Bix takes the blame for delaying us at Blaisemill.Ria just smiles and refrains from comment; it
is hard to recognise her now, she is such a diplomat! We were still travelling
the trail when the pains began.She kept
them to herself for a while until she accepted she would never reach Belacot
before the birth, then she called a halt.She concealed the pain well or maybe she did not feel it as I had,
apologised to Bix, explained how long she thought she might have before the
birth and waited while new plans were discussed.We made for Bahurst, Gerik and Kevin being
sent ahead as runners to prepare.

I stayed with Ria in case Bahurst was not reached
in time.Remembering the speed my kits
came, taking everyone by surprise, we thought maybe Ria’s birthing would
proceed in a similar way.Jack ignored
her protests and carried her; grinning and joking at her complaints and
grumbles, but I could see she was grateful.Walking over uneven ground is hard if contractions grip you.

We did make it in time but only by moments.Jack had time to lower her onto the bracken
that had been collected then I was pushing him out of the way.The first two kits came with ease and speed
and you know, Susanna, she had no need of me or anyone really then, I stood as
helper only.Ria remained in complete control;
telling, well ordering, us all what to do. But your instructions stood me in
good stead for I was able to react to her orders quickly and without fuss.I fear she would have snapped at me if I had
fumbled.I looked up once and caught
Jack’s smile as he listened to her.She
is Ria, which is all one can say.Magnificent in her sharpness.

Then . . . oh dear, all went so wrong.At first I did not understand.Her pain became more than she could keep to
herself, Jack was there in an instant demanding, questioning.The wrong way, she said; the baby was laying
wrong, then she screamed.It was
terrible.Ria cried out they would both
die.A moment that stood still.Then Jack was cleaning his hands and, as if
Ria was a sheep or some other animal at Blaisemill, he put his hand inside her
and turned the kit.A little girl, late behind
her two brothers but screaming well her discontent.I had no time for her, Jack and I attended to
Ria.Bix took the girl, washing and
wrapping her against the air.He and
Matt held the three until we were sure of Ria.Without the pain she was back to issuing instructions in gasps of
exhaustion, never ceasing.Never
relaxing until everything that needed doing had been done, all traces cleaned
up.No wildlife is having anything to do
with me or mine, she declared as she watched the correct disposal of
everything, would have dictated the correct care of her kits if Jack had not
hushed her with a smile.

Susanna, to see her as she handed the three kits to
Jack; as if they were a precious treasure which of course they are, and Jack’s
face as he received them, when he cradled them; I wish you had seen. Such a
beam of a smile, so unusual for Jack.

My kits fight to hold them but the men are always
there so they have a hard job.Louisa
cannot believe that once she was so small and Kennet just keeps spreading out
their fingers and measuring them against his.They are strong and healthy, Susanna; tell John so.Say also that Ria is truly happy, I have
never seen her so relaxed and peaceful.She seems content to idle away each day and hardly a cross word from
her.Do tell everyone who wants to know
that she is happy and content and her babies are beautiful.They have no names yet, Ria says it’s too
soon to tell what they are like, that the name must match the child but, rest
assured, I will write and tell you the minute she decides.Ah, I know you will love them too when you
meet them.

The rest of us are, as you may have gathered, all
well and content with our lives.A happy
Ria certainly makes happy company!Matt
is heading back your way today so I will finish here and send this with
him.We will be at Belacot before you
read any of the letter but we will be living there for many seasons.I will write more when we are settled.

I miss you already, my first and dearest friend,
but you shall see, Ria and I, although ill-matched, will get on very well with
each other in time; I will have someone with sense in abundance to aid me as
you once did.I am sure Ria will be an
admirable replacement although maybe not as sympathetic!I am grown much and have the fortitude now to
smile at her and make her smile back.Never fear, you and I will meet again soon I am sure.

With
much love and friendship

Ellen

All is well. The little company open up new trading routes, demining as they go. Hope that security is at last coming to the survivors. However, bandits preying on the unprotested settelments have banded together into large, ravaging hordes, killing all. The Ferals are back at war again.

Ellen Wellfit’s
Journal

All has
descended into hell and I fear we will be lost there.Bix returned today and oh how I, we, had
longed for this day. Ria and I are making plans. Ria was excitedly rehearsing
the news of her unborn kits although I thought Jack would realize the minute he
set his eyes upon her.She wondered if
she could hide it all the more to surprise him.

‘Although I did tell him before he left we would have kits in a few
months’ she reminded me with a smile and a laugh.

We knew of their return by the dust, Kennet was first to see.He raced back from Bathorpe to warn us, his
grin split his cheeks and he picked me up by my waist to whirl me around.

It was also Kennet who noticed the mood of the returning Comrade
then he looked at me in concern and Ria standing on her toes to endeavour to
view the comrades more closely shaking her head.She whispered

‘Something is wrong.So
wrong.See how they march.Oh Ellen.’

My heart seemed to die within me.Please let Bix be alright was the only thought in my mind at that
moment.

So selfish of me but that is the truth.Kennet so much a Feral now whisked all the
kits away from our cottage and hid them in Belacot.He knew not what the disaster only that there
was one.Until we knew, best the young
ones were safe away.

I saw Bix immediately and began to run toward him but Kennet put his
hand on my arm and stopped me.His eyes
had already seen the look of stony despair on his Bixfar’s face.I took but a moment more to understand who
was missing.

Ria stopped
searching the company; it was clear to all Jack was not among them.All the colour in her face fled and her
expression hardened.Her eyes, cold like
stone, watched Bix as he came toward her.I felt the weight of his heart from where I stood.

‘Where’s Jack?’A
whisper.Bix gestured with his hands but
didn’t speak.Ria scowled then as she
had not for so many seasons, she repeated her words.

‘He’s lost.’Such small
words, they made no sense.How could
Jack be lost?Was he dead, was he
missing?Bix didn’t know.The story came slowly.There had been a battle and after all was
over Jack was gone.They had searched
for days but nothing; no Jack, no body.His voice stopped on an intake of air and he held a hand out to Ria.A gesture asking forgiveness,
understanding.She did not understand.

‘Is he dead?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘If he is dead where is his body?’Ria was not listening to him.I
moved forward to comfort her but suddenly Ria went for Bix.Raking her nails down his face and then
beating him with her fists.

‘Ferals don’t leave anyone behind. You told me over and over.You never leave a man behind.Where is he?How could you leave him?He’s
your man.He’s your man.’

Screaming the words at Bix and he, standing motionless, let her hit
him, never flinched as she accused him, her face only inches away. That her
words tore into a raw wound was obvious to all of us.Bix had lost part of himself with Jack.

Ria wept then and her fists’ beat grew weaker.Head bowed she repeated her accusations in a
diminishing voice.Suddenly all movement
ceased and looking up searchingly she opened her fists, slid her palms up
either side of his face and held him.

‘Oh Bix, how will you and I go along without our Jack?How have you borne it all these days?He is your other half.He is mine.How do we live without him?’

Then Bix pressed her in his arms so tightly I thought he would break
her ribs.I knew they both wept and Bix
needed to hold her tightly for his comfort as well as hers.Ria spoke truly; they had both lost a part of
themselves.

Ria's grief overwhelmed,
extravagantly tearing and ripping, bringing her to her knees clutching head,
refusing all hands that would help.Moaning and hitting at the air with tight fists, as if to drive
something away. I tried, we all tried,
to hold her close, to comfort; these gestures of pity drove her to more
violence and rage. Wrenching herself free and scrambling to her feet, moving
away from us then falling to her knees again, the force of weeping too much for
vision.

Ria wept so for hours, leaning finally against the cottage walls,
knees drawn up as if cradling her unborn.Once or twice when the storms gentled her hands would stroke her
belly.Oh how she tried to collect
calmness but always found it was just beyond her grasp.

‘She’ll damage the children’ Anya urged.‘Can't we give her any sedative?Bix don’t you have anything?’Ria heard and screamed at poor Anya that she
was trying to kill Jack's babies. Anya who only wished to help.

I caught at Bix's arm, when it seemed Ria would cease only when she
died of exhaustion.

‘Help her Bix.It is her mind
that is going.She's listening to the
voice in her head, see how she beats at it, how she covers her ears, her mother
is back.She will lose her mind if we
don't stop it.’

Bix, his face as grey as the City walls, gestured at me helplessly,
his hands apart; how could he help Ria?He had been the cause of this grief.He had lost Jack.He had been the
one, she wouldn't want him.

I told him ‘Just hold her, as Jack would; rock her, kiss her. We
have watched Jack often enough that you can do that.’

So Bix knelt by her and, dodging the blows, held her tightly,
pinning her arms by her sides, pulling her to him.He kissed Ria’s tears and crooned softly as
Jack used to.Told her over and over she
was bold and brave, told her to hush now, she would be ill, she would make the
unborn ill.Told her not to listen to
her mother's voice.Ria stopped crying
to listen to the soft words better lying in his arms staring up at his face.

‘She's laughing, reminding me of her words, reminding me she warned
me all those years ago Jack would leave.’ Ria whispered.‘She'll take me and the kits down with her;
don't let her take me.Make her stop,
make her stop.’

Ria's hands struggled to free themselves, one managed and she tried
to beat at her head again.Bix took
Ria’s hand in his; talking, talking all the time.I remembered the hours Jack had done so.
Slowly Ria began to listen.Between the
sobbing she was beginning to listen.Turning her face inwards burrowing close to his chest, my Bix holding
her closer, kissed her hair, her neck, telling her she was the best, the
bravest.When he called her name and she
would not look up he moved her so that she did. Ria just shook her head in a
gesture of defeat saying she couldn't fight without Jack.

‘You have Jack always. He's here in your head.’ Bix smoothed back
her hair, so closely resembling Jack's movements I think for a second she
thought it was Jack for her hand started to stray upwards to capture Bix's hand
and then dropped again.‘You have him
here, in your heart.’My man continued
without falter as he laid his hand on her breast.‘And you have a part of him here.’His hand rested on her belly.‘You have him.’

Ria tried to smile and failed. Her eyes filled, spilt over again, but the
outpouring lessened.Bix endlessly
rocking her, kissing her, wiping the tears away. He continued telling her how
brave, how wonderful she was; his voice ragged in the continuation of words,
hypnotizing her with the gentleness, a lullaby.Like so Jack had always soothed her, on and on.